Chapter 104
104
Third Person’s POV
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Adelaide responded modestly, her gaze lowered, and unconsciously rubbed the shadow wolf emblem on her armor. “You flatter me. This isn’t just my doing. Alpha Lance planned and commanded the mission flawlessly. I merely followed his lead and benefited from his expertise. Compared to the seasoned warriors who’ve shed blood on the battlefield for years, my contributions are insignificant.”
Gazing at the faint scar above Adelaide’s brow, a relic of her mother’s touch now dusted with battlefield grime, Clarissa’s throat tightened.
“Female werewolves face far more challenges on the battlefield than male ones,” she said softly, smoothing Adelaide’s wind–tousled hair and brushing against the new downy hairs at her ear.
“Now that the war has ended, what are your plans? If you’re open to it, I could introduce you to promising young Alphas. Or perhaps I could arrange a strategic alliance for you.”
Adelaide stood hastily, her armor’s metal plates softly clinking. “Thank you for your concern, but right now, I just want to bathe and get some rest. We can talk about the rest later,” she said, her eyes drifting to the falling snow outside. Her voice softened as she recalled her mother’s final moments.
Clarissa sighed. “I know. A she–wolf shouldn’t be confined to the path of becoming a mate. But your mother once told me she wished for you to live a peaceful life.”
“From a personal standpoint, I’d like to see you become the wolf kingdom’s first female Gamma. Yet, I don’t want to disregard your mother’s wishes. She… she truly feared the battlefield. It took almost everything from her,” Clarissa’s voice trembled.
Adelaide’s eyes fell on the streaks of white in Clarissa’s hair.
As a child, she’d often visited the palace with her mother.
Back then, Clarissa, the wolf kingdom’s royal Luna, would teach her to read star maps under the moonlight, saying, “A she–wolf’s vision should reach for the vast sky.”
Airella had agreed, saying a she–wolf could venture into the world.
At seven or eight, Adelaide left home for the Shadow Peaks‘ Warscar Training Camp to learn combat.
She wanted to carve her own path in the world, at least one where she could protect herself.
When her father and brothers‘ bodies returned to the Frostfang Pack, Airella wept and held her, repeating, “I feared you’d follow the same path as them.”
Adelaide didn’t know how to respond to Clarissa’s words and fell silent.
In the training camp, she’d been full of vitality and hope for the future.
But after the pack and family endured successive tragedies, her heart had grown cold, and she’d lived merely to meet the world’s expectations of a she–wolf.
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After a long while, she spoke calmly, “We’ll discuss that another day.”
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Clarissa gazed at her tenderly. “Yes, let’s speak of it later. Go now and bathe. The stench of sweat is overwhelming; I can hardly bear it.”
Clarissa’s eyes had indeed grown red.
Though she was usually strong and seldom cried, mentioning the Davidsons stirred deep sorrow.
Once certain pains surfaced, they were hard to suppress.
Adelaide took her leave.
The victory banquet had concluded, and Lycan Erasmus had kept Lance in his study for a private conversation.
Lance had submitted a detailed report on the southern border campaign, but the war, spanning over twenty cities and years of fighting, couldn’t be encapsulated in a single document.
Erasmus sought not only the outcomes but also insights into which werewolf generals were worth promoting.
Most crucially, he needed clarity on Velda and the Western Tribes.
Though he’d uncovered some clues, the matter was so shocking that he needed to verify it from multiple
sources.
d disclosed everything, aligning with Erasmus’s findings.
as furious. His pheromones condensed into an ice storm, and the starlight gems in the council
frosted over instantly.
elongated fangs pierced his lower lip, silver–blue blood droplets splattering on the documents, freezing the ink into crystalline runes. “These blood–stained reports are practically hymns to that wretched woman!”
“So, I can’t hold Velda accountable?” Lance asked.
“The Western Tribes have taken their revenge in secret, but they’re not publicizing it. We can’t acknowledge it either. Solanke might’ve thought Velda would cave to the gossip and kill herself, but that woman has no such intentions.”
“Not a word about the village massacres? Not even within their kingdom?”
Lance shook his head. “No mention at all. Everyone knows the truth. Their Lycan King is ill, and the princes are fighting for the throne. They’re obsessed with preserving the royal image. They haven’t announced the prince’s death and are likely crafting a cover–up.”
Erasmus sighed deeply, his eyes as heavy as the snow–draped twilight. “If exposed, the Western Tribes would have every reason to attack the Bloodscar Border. We’d be spread too thin. Alpha Zander of Bloodscar is still recovering, and most of our wolves are in the south. If they invade now, it’s sheer
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opportunism. In their place, I’d do the same.”